Natural Causes
by staceycj
Summary: Dean kisses the wrong girl and ends up aging 50 years in a week.  How does he cope with this sudden physical change?  And how will Sammy save his big brother's life?
1. Chapter 1

"Bobby, do you really think this will undo the damage?" Sam asked nervously glancing over at his brother, who was lying on the couch in front of the fire with a blanket wrapped around his frail body. Sam tried to feel sympathy, he knew his brother must be suffering, the sounds he made when he got up told the tale of the torturous pain he must be enduring, but all he felt was fear and anger. His brother had gotten himself into this one all by himself and Sam was more than a little angry. Not so much that he had to save his brother, but because this could have been prevented.

Bobby also glanced at the man in the other room and took a deep breath. "I sure hope so. I don't see why it shouldn't reverse the effects. I mean, if the demon is slowly sucking the life force out of him and trapping it into that little crystal thing that she has around her neck, I don't see why exorcising the demon and then smashing the crystal shouldn't put everything back into Dean." Sam sighed and nodded. Watching his big strong brother become frail and lifeless was terrifying, and he hated to say it but he didn't even want to go into the other room to say good bye and that he would save him. Just looking at what Dean had become was devastating. It was a testament to his mortality, and Dean, of all people, was supposed to be strong and immortal. If for no other reason than because he was Sammy Winchester's big brother.

Sam, however, being a Winchester forced one foot in front of the other and went into the living room. The room no longer smelled like dust and old books, it smelled rather like a nursing home that catered to the nearly dead.

"Dean, do you need another blanket?" he asked kneeling in front of the couch. Sam busied himself with fixing and arranging the blankets around his brother's thin form. He just couldn't force himself to look into the cloudy green eyes that were once his brother's eyes.

"No Sammy, I'm okay," he said softly. If he hadn't called him Sammy, Sam would never have known that the grizzled soft voice belonged to his brother. He had to do this. It didn't matter what it cost him personally, he had to get Dean back. His Dean back.

"Okay. Well, I'll be back as soon as I can. Bobby will stay here. I shouldn't be gone more than a couple of days."

"I'm not a child Sammy. Go. I'll still be here when you get back." Sam tried to hide the fear in his eyes as he nodded. He really hoped that his brother would be there when he returned to the salvage yard. Sam nodded and stood. He couldn't force himself to look at Dean one last time, because if it was the last time, he didn't want to remember his brother this way.

Dean, even through is cloudy vision, had noted that Sam hadn't looked at him the entire time he spoke to him. He had fidgeted with the blankets, looked just over Dean's head at some distant point in the kitchen, but Sam's hazel eyes never once rested on Dean's face. Dean decided that he must look really bad, if his own brother wouldn't look at him.

His bladder called and he sighed. It was really difficult to get up and down. His joints ached and throbbed when he moved, and he was pretty sure that it was going to rain, because for the last hour or so his joints had ached without movement. He had laid there as still as possible and hoped that the pain would subside, but it didn't. It hadn't even become manageable until Bobby had given him pain relievers an hour or two before. Dean was having a difficult time remembering things like that. The time, the day, the year, little things were becoming difficult to grasp and remember. His cell phone had become a complete and utter mystery to him two days before. That was when Sam had really and truly become terrified.

Dean tried to focus on sitting up, but between his achy joints and muscles and the fact that his arms seemed no longer capable of supporting his weight, it was a loosing battle. However, Bobby must have seen him struggling to get up, because he was at Dean's side helping him stand.

"You okay?" Bobby asked. 'No, I'm not alright you old fool!' he wanted to shout at the older man. Instead he said nothing and allowed Bobby to help him shuffle to the bathroom. Dean closed the door and was fairly sure that Bobby was standing right outside. After doing his business, he washed is hands and dared a look in the mirror.

He closed his eyes and hung his head. He really did look bad. His once dark hair was now snow white, and his bright green eyes that always looked ready for a fight, were dull and aged, slightly yellow looking, his taught 30 year old skin was wrinkled and hanging from his bones. He had lost most of his body mass in the last three days, and now had taken to counting his ribs when he got ready for bed. Which was another thing; he slept most of the day, and found it hard to stay awake. His mind had lost its sharpness and the whole world seemed more dull and painful. He had aged 50 years in a week. All because he had been lustful and had engaged in a kiss with the wrong woman. It had cost him his youth, and if Sammy couldn't get back with the crystal in time, his life.


	2. Demon Has My Number

**Enjoy! Please review and let me know what you think of this latest installment. Thank you for reading!!**

Bobby helped Dean back to the couch. Bobby's worried expression told Dean just how unnerved he was by what was happening.

"Bobby it'll all be all right." Dean said in a quaking voice that held little conviction.

"Dean…"

"It'll all be all right either way Bobby. If I die, well, then that's okay too. I never thought I'd live to be old and gray, but.." Dean tried to chuckle but instead it came out as a wheezy cough. Bobby rushed to his side and rubbed his back. Bobby's blood ran cold when his hand came in contact with skin against bone.

"Maybe you should eat some son."

"I'm just not hungry. Thanks anyway."

"But, Dean, you're skin and bone."

"I just want to rest," Dean said with a weary sigh. "I'm so tired Bobby. I just want to sleep." The older hunter nodded and helped Dean get situated on the couch and loaded his frail frame with blankets.

"Do you need anything?" he asked one last time before leaving the younger man to sleep.

"Nah. I'm good. Thanks though." Bobby nodded, hesitated, eyes resting on what used to pass for a man who looked much younger than his 30 years. He closed his eyes tried to force the frail, liver spotted, white haired man from his mind, and bring back the bright eyed handsome young man that he had known just months ago. He couldn't do it. His mind simply could not conjure up the image. He sighed, shook his head and left the room.

Dean heard the footfalls diminish as Bobby entered the kitchen just off of the living room and he marveled at how every other sense he had had dulled. He couldn't see things far away, food didn't hold nearly the same amount of flavor, and things just didn't smell as good or as bad as they had before. Yet, his hearing, that was perfect. He figured it was God's one last cruel joke to play on Dean Winchester—allow him to hear what is coming up behind him right before it kills him. Because Dean figured it was only a matter of time before a demon came prancing in here and finished him off while he was in this weakened state. The demons were probably jockeying for position right at this very second, because they had to know that Sam had left to find the creature that had done this to him. Everyone in the preternatural community knew that if you could separate the brothers, their defenses were gone.

Dean closed his eyes and sighed, he tried to clear his mind but it wouldn't stop playing fragments of songs, snippets of movies, and of course the constant stream of home movies that were his life: the demons he'd killed, the people he'd saved, the night he carried Sammy out of the fire, the day he had gotten Sammy from school, the days spent in the car just talking with his brother. He wondered if this was what it truly felt like to grow old and die. Did one always replay their life live and in color the way it was playing out in his mind? He was sure that if it did, it explained why older people suddenly opened up to their loved ones and wanted to make things right. Of course they wanted this burden lifted from their shoulders. But Dean, well, the one thing that constantly replayed in his mind was the events of the past week.

He and Sammy had been drawn to this little out of the way place in Idaho because they had read that people were mysteriously dying. The newspapers hadn't exactly explained that they had been aging at an accelerated rate and then dying of old age, no, that would freak out the majority of the population. The news was calling it a "mysterious illness" and they were encouraging the inhabitants of the town to stay inside. The school which housed K-12 had closed as well as many of the businesses. When Sam and Dean had rolled up in the Impala, the streets were deserted and the whole place had the vaguely eerie feeling that all was not as it seemed.

They had checked into a motel and the brothers had posed as people from the CDC again, this time Sam had an ID that was a little more sophisticated and convincing, and they found out that the people were dying from old age. After interviewing the doctors, and finding out that they knew nothing, the brothers split up and decided to check around town for any odd occurrences.

Dean hadn't found any, but his stomach had protested that it hadn't been filled with anything other than cheap coffee and wanted something solid, so he went to the nearest food place, that was actually open, and went inside. The place, like the rest of the town was desolate. The fans whirled and the room was still.

Dean, undeterred, sat down and the lone waitress, wearing a surgical mask, took his order quickly and hurried to the back. Sam called him as he sat there waiting, telling him that he thought he was onto something. Sam had it narrowed down to either a demon or a witch trying to keep herself young. Dean had told him to keep him posted and ended the call just as his lunch was being served. Dean and his stomach were so interested in the food that he hadn't noticed the exotic beauty that had walked into the diner. She sat at the table next to him and smiled.

"You new in town?" she asked. Dean looked over and practically dropped his sandwich. The girl was a raven haired beauty. She had eyes the color of jade and she had a body that just wouldn't quit. Dean gave her his best flirtatious smile.

"Yeah. Just came in. Passing through actually." She smiled and scooted closer to Dean's table.

"You are awful handsome." She said and rested her head in her hand. Dean finished chewing and swallowed. He smiled at the woman.

"You're not so bad yourself," he said as he looked her over.

"I'm pleased that you noticed."

"How could someone NOT notice?" The two casually flirted and before Dean knew what had happened, she was sitting next to him and he was part of a passionate kiss. After she kissed him she simply got up and left. At the time he didn't think anything was strange about that, but as the week had progressed he realized that he must have been under the influence of some weirdo demon mind trick. It most certainly wasn't the first time that it had happened.

If nothing else, all of the preternatural community had his number. They knew that all it took was a pretty female face to coerce him and make him loose his wits. Dean sighed and tucked himself deeper into the blankets and worried that even if Sammy saved him from his latest mess that it wouldn't really matter because someone or something was definitely going to kill him.


	3. Getting Old Sucks Out Loud

Chapter 3

Fire crackled and spit. And Dean's newly aged eyes watched it with fixed interest. He was trying to see how exactly he could have missed something as vital as that woman in the diner being a witch or a demon. He already had a sneaky suspicion that it was a mind trick, but what if it wasn't? What if Dean's upstairs brain had been overridden by his downstairs brain and he had just really wanted her touch and boy had he gotten it.

As he tried to remember he realized that he didn't have any recollection of the events leading to the kiss or the events after the kiss. What he did remember was fully coming back to himself in the car. It was like waking up from a daydream that left you feeling all good and tingly inside, but with no recollection of what exactly had taken place while you were enjoying the dream.

The rest of that fateful day had passed without event. Dean had met Sam at the motel several hours later and they had traded information and then watched a cheesy movie. It was one of those movies that everyone and their brother has seen like ten times, but can't remember for the life of them what it was about or why they had seen it.

The next day, however, had been fraught with changes. He was doing his morning ablutions when he noticed something strange in the mirror. He had just started to brush his teeth and had looked up into the mirror. The image that appeared in front of him looked like him but there were changes to the features and there was something definitely wrong with his hair. He leaned in closer to look at the mirror and noted that there were slivers of white running through the normally dark hair.

"Sam!" he yelled and grabbed his bottle of shampoo and went into the main area of the hotel room. "Sam!" he yelled again and smacked the back of Sam's head. Sam woke with a start.

"What? Something wrong?" he asked, shielding his eyes from the light that Dean had turned on.

"Yeah, something's wrong all right. What did you put in my shampoo?"

"What? Nothing?" Sam said sitting up. He looked up at his brother and noticed the white streaks in his hair.

"Trying a new look?" he asked.

"No ass hat." Dean threw the bottle of shampoo at him and Sam's reflexes weren't awake yet and the bottle nailed him square in the chest. "I'm going to ask one more time, what did you put in my shampoo?"

"Nothing. Dean. I swear. I didn't do anything like that. We called a truce," he said disentangling himself from the sheets and standing up.

"Then what the hell is this in my hair?" Dean demanded. Heart beating faster than was normal, his face was red with anger and fear. What was going on? If Sammy hadn't done something to his shampoo, then the only sane conclusion left was that his hair had gone white over night. Sam used his height to his advantage and looked down at the top of his brother's head and pulled out one of the white strands.

"Hey dude! That hurts," Dean exclaimed as he rubbed the spot on his head.

"Sorry." Sam went to his bag and began to rummage through it.

"What? Do you have Gill Grissom's laboratory in there? Gonna do a DNA comparison? Want to make sure I'm your real brother?" Dean was throwing wise cracks as fast as he could. He was scared to death and he hoped that Sam didn't pick up on it.

"I'm looking for my magnifying glass."

"What do you need with that?" Sam located the glass and went to the lamp and held the glass and the hair underneath it and began to examine it.

"I'm checking to see if it goes to the root."

"What do you know about hair color Sam?"

"I took a biology class and we examined human hair and color. It was really cool."

"Did you take any classes there that had anything to do with law?"

"Sure, I took a lot of them. But I had time to kill before I met Jessica."

"So you took classes on looking at hair? Geek much?"

"Well my geek moment in college…may…." Sam stopped. He looked up at his brother. "I think that this is just the natural color of your hair Dean. It doesn't look like paint or white out or anything. Your hair is just white in spots."

"Oh com on Sam! I went to bed last night with a head full of dark hair. How in the hell do I wake up the next morning with white streaks in my hair? Huh? How does that happen?"

"I don't know Dean. What happened yesterday that you aren't telling me?"

"Nothing. I didn't…" he stopped. "The girl."

"What girl?"

"The girl at the diner." 

Dean had recounted the events to Sam. Even the missing time element. Both brothers realized that this was indeed more serious than they thought. Fear coursed through both brother's bodies as they realized the implications of this new development.

"Development indeed." Dean thought as he tried to analyze that particular event. His mind was brought back to Bobby's living room when the older man walked in carrying what appeared to be lunch.

"Come on Dean you need to sit up and eat something."

"I told you I'm not hungry Bobby." 

"I don't care what your stubborn ass told me. You need to eat. Now let's get you sat up." Dean didn't have much of a choice other than to comply. Bobby sat him up, arranged pillows around him to prop up his back and arms. He put the TV tray on Dean's lap and sat beside him ready to help him eat. Dean looked down at the soup and sighed. Two days ago his teeth had become too sensitive to eat more solid foods, so what he had managed to get down in the last couple of days had constituted of Ensure and soup. It seriously wasn't a good mix. Dean sighed as he raised the spoon to his lips and took a swallow. Man, this getting old thing sucked out loud!


	4. Fine Lines and Wrinkles

**Please review and let me know if you like the story or not. I appreciate all kinds of feedback!**

Bobby stuffed Dean to what he thought was the brink of exploding. In reality he had eaten only a fraction of the soup and drank only a half a glass of water. Bobby looked at him worriedly.

"I told you I wasn't hungry. Can I go back to sleep now?"

"Dean."

"Look, there really isn't anything else I can do."

"We can go for a walk?"

"What for? Just so I can come back here and be even more exhausted. Plus the ordeal of just getting a coat on isn't something I want to do right at the moment." Bobby's eyes looked sad and scared.

"Dean, I always wanted more for you."

"Well, I'm getting my wish." Bobby looked incredulous.

"What wish?"

"I never thought I would grow old. I always thought that I would just die on the job, and Sam would salt and burn my bones and go on with his life. You know his real life. The life he wants. I know I've drug him down. If I were him, I probably wouldn't even try to find the demon to stop this. I would just let me go. So I'm getting at least some of my wish. I'll at least grow old before I die." Bobby shook his head. Dean was reminding him of his father before he passed; moody, cold and self loathing. It pained him to see the man who he viewed as a son, deteriorate like this.

"Dean you absolutely amaze me." Dean tried to shrug. He wasn't in the mood to hear Bobby say that Sam loved him and would do anything in the world to be with him. Sam had proven over and over with his actions that it was easy to ditch him and he would the moment he could. Dean was truly surprised that Sam was so concerned.

"Can I please just go back to sleep now?"

"Fine." Bobby said anger lacing his words. He helped lower Dean back down onto his side, Dean's muscles ached more than they had this morning.

Aching muscles had never been anything new to the eldest Winchester, but it had really gotten bad the same day his hair had turned white.

Sam and Dean had spent the afternoon in the hospital talking to the patients, and they all had the same missing time that he had. However, the physical description varied from person to person.

"Man. How are we ever going to find this girl? Person. Demon. Whatever?" Dean asked as he opened the door to the Impala.

"I don't know. Do you remember anything special she was wearing?" Sam asked and looked up at his brother. Dean noted that Sam's brow was wrinkled and he looked sad.

"What?"

"Your hair is almost completely white." Dean had sighed and tried to play it off as no big deal but inside he was scared and panicked. He raked a hand through his hair and shook his head.

"This is so not good dude. We have to figure out who that thing was." He started the car and Sam's question came to mind. Was there anything special about her appearance? She had been wearing a crystal amulet.

"She was wearing a crystal amulet."

"Crystal?"

"Yeah."

"Shape?" Sam asked.

"I don't know…Circle I think…something inside it. I wasn't exactly paying attention to her jewelry." Dean inwardly cursed himself for allowing things to cloud his judgment. At least this time, his stupidity didn't affect anyone but him. And of course as if he wasn't yelling at himself enough, Sam sighed and looked straight ahead.

"Circle. Well, drop me at the library, I'll do some research, I'll call you when I'm ready to be picked up."

"Okay. I'll see if I can spot anyone with that necklace."

"Good luck." Sam said as Dean pulled up in front of the library. Dean watched his little brother go up the steps and disappear into the building. Instead of doing what he told Sam he was going to do, he went back to the hotel. Getting out of the car was harder than it normally was. His body didn't seem to want to cooperate with his brain's commands and when it did, he felt slow and his muscles ached, even though he hadn't done anything strenuous.

Once inside, his destination was the bathroom to look at his reflection. However, it wasn't as easy as he thought it would be. In his mind he was handsome, late twenties, he didn't know if his self image could stand to see his reflection. He would walk to the bathroom and then walk back out into the main area. He did this several times before he began chiding himself for being a coward and he forced himself to go inside the bathroom. It took all of his courage to turn on the light and once he did, he was slightly startled. His hair had been mostly the right color this morning, but now it was more white than dark. He gingerly took a hand to it and touched it. He was almost afraid that it wasn't real or that it would fall out in his hands. But, his hair both white and what little of the dark was left, felt the same as ever and it stayed firmly attached to his scalp. His eyes moved from his hair to his face and the anxiety flowed through his body. Lines were beginning to form on his face. Lines that were not smile lines. And his thick lips had thinned considerably since the morning. Touching his face, he noted that his skin even felt different, softer, and almost loose.

"Oh my God," he whispered to himself. He had aged at least a decade in the course of the day. They had to find the witch or demon with that amulet and fast. He couldn't live like this.

Dean laughed to himself; he had thought he couldn't live like this just a mere five days ago. The fire cracked and he smiled to himself. Living wasn't going to be much of an option here real soon.


	5. Speeding

As soon as Sam left Bobby's his heart had started beating on over drive. He had to get back to Iowa and get this taken care of. Dean had taken care of him, saved him, on so many occasions, just this once he needed to save Dean. Even if it meant saving Dean from himself, and in reality, that was pretty much what he was doing. Every demon from here to the next world knew that Dean had a weakness for pretty young women. Sam always told Dean that girls would be the death of him, that he needed to focus on real relationships and not just whoever was available that particular night.

"I guess I just never thought that they would take him out like this." Sam mumbled to the empty car. The first time he had seen the true toll the demon had taken on his brother had been playing over and over again in his mind for the last week. Seeing your strong vital big brother aged and diminished wasn't something that sat well with him. Even when he was younger and was able to imagine their father growing old and dying, he had never once pictured Dean old and gray. He always figured that Dean was invincible and invulnerable to age. Boy had he been wrong, and the evening Dean had picked him up after the afternoon spent researching, had disturbed him on more levels than he knew he had.

He had called Dean to come get him and Dean had sounded a little distant, but Sam chalked that up to that Dean was probably concentrating on the case. However, when Sam got into the car and really looked at Dean, he realized that his brother's earlier strained tone had nothing to do with the case and all with his reflection in the mirror.

Sam had to admit that Dean didn't look so dramatically different that he wouldn't have recognized him on the street, but there were subtle things, the thinning of the lips, little creases in his face, and the fact that his hair was now almost completely snow white.

If someone on the street were to look at his brother, they might mistake him for a 40 year old and not the youthful 29 that he truly was. Now that Sam thought about it, his brother had always looked just a little younger than he did, especially when he shaved. For the first time since Sam had grown taller than his brother, he looked younger than the eldest hunter.

"Don't look at me like that dude." Dean snapped.

"Sorry."

"What have you found?" Dean asked curtly and pulled back out onto the busy street heading back to the motel.

"I found lore on a demon that steals the youth from its victims in order for it to survive."

"How does it get reversed?"

"That part of the lore was a little unclear."

"Fantastic."

"But, I think if we go and talk to the victims again then we might learn more about this crystal. Maybe they were paying more attention to attire than you were."

"Freaking wonderful." Dean mumbled and sighed. Sam couldn't help but steal glances at his brother. Sam had thought he was being subtle, but as it turned out he had been found out, because after the third glance, Dean sighed and pulled the car onto the shoulder of the deserted road so quickly that Sam had got up close and personal with the car door, more than he ever had before and that was saying something since Dean was usually the one in control of the car. Dean got out the door squeaking and slamming shut with such force that the car rocked. He looked at Sam through the windshield and indicated that Sam should do the same.

Sam stepped out into the fading sunlight and wondered what in the world his brother wanted him outside of the car. Sam stepped out of the car and stood in front of his brother, carefully avoiding his brother's glare.

"What Dean?"

"Come on. Look. Get it over with. I look weird. I admit it. Just get it over with so we can move along. I don't need to drive all of the way back to the motel with you starring at me." Sam forced himself to look at Dean for a long couple of seconds, taking in the subtle changes. Dean withstood the scrutiny for a few moments and then turned.

"Okay, freak boy, let's get back to the hotel. Think we can continue this investigation without you gawking at me?" Sam nodded a little sheepishly. They got back into the car and Sam made sure to keep his eyes focused on the road ahead of them.

"Did you manage to catch a glimpse of the necklace?" Sam asked.

"Nope. I didn't. But tomorrow, when we talk to the other victims, we'll see if they have more, like you said, and maybe we'll have more to go on." Sam nodded, never taking his eyes off of the road.

Sam was pretty sure that he would never forget that day as long as he lived. He hadn't been able to look Dean full in the face since that moment. For the first time in his life, Sam sped. If Dean knew that he was risking his precious baby he would be furious. Touching the wheel gently he whispered,

"I'll get him back for you." Making the promise to the car made him even more resolved to get Dean back to normal. His foot pressed on the accelerator that much harder.


	6. Eyes

**Please review and let me know what you think! I am having fun writing and I hope that others are having fun reading it. Please let me know! Stacey.**

Dean lay awake wondering how Sam was doing. He hoped that he was safe and that he would be able to get that evil bitch and exorcise her. Even if Sam wasn't able to save him at least he would be able to save others from the same fate that he was enduring.

And what a fate it was. The first night wasn't so bad, sure his hair was white and he had some fine lines, but whatever. He was still strong and healthy. And as long as he had all of his faculties together, Dean didn't really care that much about getting older. Sure it was a little disconcerting to wake up one morning, see one reflection of yourself, and then go to bed looking much different than you had when you woke up. Sure, that bothered him a little, and his muscles ached a bit, but that was to be expected when your body was aging at an accelerated rate.

However, day two of the demon induced aging was much different than day one. While on day one he had experienced mild discomfort and a major change to his physical appearance, he was still himself. On day two, he discovered that getting old was much more than a change in your physical appearance. For the first time in his life he woke up with the dawn. When his eyes snapped open, there was no usual laziness or want to go back to sleep, he was up and there was going to be no going back to sleep.

At first, he thought he sensed someone else in the room. Reaching under his pillow, he took hold of the knife that was kept there and started to glance around the room. The room was slightly fuzzy, as if he were trying to watch a television program with very bad reception. He rubbed at his eyes trying to clear the fuzz out of them, but it wouldn't go away. He tried to sit straight up, but found that his muscles didn't exactly want to work as fast as he wanted them to. Panic reached its icy hand down into his stomach and tried to pull his stomach up his throat, Dean managed to suppress the urge to regurgitate, and his stomach remained lodged in his throat.

He looked over and there was still a lump in the bed next to him, it was fuzzy and he hoped that it was Sam still sleeping. He managed to get to his feet, albeit with a little pain and stiffness, and shuffled over to the sleeping figure in the bed next to his and found, Sam, just as he had hoped, sprawled face first into the pillow, sleeping, and lightly snoring, just like normal. Dean turned, and leaned against the wall next to the sleeping  
Sam and let out a ragged breath. He couldn't tell Sam about his eye sight. He couldn't. He pulled himself together enough to go into the bathroom. He had to know just how different he looked. He ventured a look at his hands, and they still looked pretty much the same as they always had. So he was hopeful that his face had changed very little since last night.

Flipping on the bathroom light, he kept his head down and looked into the sink, and prayed to the God that Sam prayed to, hoping that since Sam already prayed for his brother that this God would at least acknowledge his presence. He asked the deity to please allow him to not have changed too terribly much over the course of the 8 hours that he had been sleeping. He finally gathered his courage and looked up and he let out a breath that he hadn't realized he was holding. Nothing had outwardly changed since the night before. He ran a hand through his hair and gave a silent thank you to Sam's God that, at least for the morning, no other life altering changes were occurring to his body.

It was so disconcerting being in his body now. He felt as if he didn't belong there anymore. As if someone had removed his soul and put it into someone else's body, and the body didn't fit especially well. He wanted to dig his hands into his chest and remove this ill fitting suit and retrieve his skin and put it back on. He suddenly wondered if this is what shape shifters felt like. The thought induced him to let out a strangled laugh; a laugh that was somewhere between a humorous laugh and a sob. He put a hand to his mouth to muffle the scared sounds coming from it.

Sam awoke when Dean had been standing next to him. Sam had always been a light sleeper so it didn't take much to wake him, and Dean's breath close to his face had done the trick. After giving Dean a few minutes to get himself together he got out of bed and went to the bathroom door and leaned against the frame. His brother had both hands resting on either side of the sink and his head bowed.

"You okay Dean?" Sam asked. Dean lifted his face and looked at Sam.

When Sam gave no indication that his appearance affected him, Dean mumbled, "I'm fine dude, we need to get this day started. Get dressed."

Both men silently dressed, brushed teeth, shaved, and brushed hair. Sam packed his lap top and slung it over his shoulder and nodded at Dean to indicate that he was ready to go. Dean pulled his car keys out of his pocket, looked at them, and realized that he wasn't in any shape to drive. He could barely see well enough to not bump into things, so driving was definitely out of the question. Dean threw the car keys in Sam's general direction hoping that he at least looked like he was aiming at the younger man. He heard Sam catch them. "You drive."

"Me?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"Does it matter? Just shut up and drive the damn car." They were headed to the hospital to re-interview the patients, and Dean didn't trust his eyesight enough to actually drive the car. Sam gave him a quizzical look but said nothing. The brother's got into the car and drove to the hospital in silence.


	7. Crazies

Before Sam had left, he and Bobby had crafted a tracking spell, and they were using it to locate the demon that was slowly sucking the youth and therefore, the life out of his brother.

They had called Bobby after they realized that finding the demon was going to be like locating a needle in a haystack. Well, Dean hadn't wanted to call the older hunter, and Sam had pretended to go along with him and waited until Dean took a shower before he called Bobby.

"Hey Sam, how's it going?"

"We have a big problem?"

"Oh? Dean okay?"

"Not really."

"What does that mean boy? Spit it out," Bobby said in a frustrated tone.

"A demon kissed Dean in a diner and well, ever since, he well, he looks like he's aging at an accelerated rate."

"Aging?"

"Yeah, his hair has gone completely white, and I'm not sure but I don't think his eyesight isn't too good anymore."

"When did this happen?"

"About three days ago."

"Have you located the demon?"

"That's why I'm calling. I need help finding the demon. Dean didn't want me to call you."

"Of course he didn't want you to call me. Why would Dean want to do anything that could possibly help him?"

"I know Bobby. You are preaching to the choir."

"Well, we can always do a tracking spell."

"Really?" Sam asked hopefully.

"I know a witch, she owes me a favor, and I can call her. Maybe she knows how to reverse this or how to track this particular demon."

"Okay. Thanks Bobby."

"Don't thank me yet son. I haven't done anything." Bobby hung up on the young hunter.

Now, here Sam was sitting in the Impala driving way too fast trying to find this demon. They had been able to track it, because she had left her essence with Dean. Sam wasn't entirely sure he understood the logistics of the whole thing, all he knew was that the witch did something to a compass and set inside the Impala and that thing was pointing the way. Sam had been a little leery at first, but for the last day it had been pointing the way to save Dean.

Sam looked down at it once more and it was strongly pointing west. Sam slowed down and looked in the direction that the compass pointed. As far as he could see there was no road to turn onto, only forest. Sam sighed and decided to park the Impala on the side of this deserted two lane road. There was just enough space on the shoulder that he could park the car completely off of the road and ensure that there wasn't a chance in Hell that anyone could damage Dean's baby. Throwing the car into park, taking the compass in the palm of his hand, and taking his bag full of weapons and holy water out of the car, he slammed the car door and started heading in the direction the compass wanted him to.

Sam took a deep breath, steeled his nerves and went ahead into the forest. He and Dean usually did these kinds of things together. Their father had always taught them that it was safer to do these missions in pairs. And it did make sense to have someone to watch your back when you were entering an unknown situation. He suddenly had a longing for his brother to be at his back, his back was feeling sorely naked without his brother's strong presence behind him.

He walked continuously, following that stupid compass, and he was beginning to wonder just how correct the thing was. He had been walking for over two hours and so far he had come upon nothing. The witch told him that the compass would go haywire when he was right next to the demon. He figured that two hours of walking should have at least brought him close to the demon. He stopped, looked around, tried to get his barring, and he looked up and noted the moon was full.

"Of course it is a full moon." He mumbled to himself. The compass started to vibrate in his hand.

"Because all of the crazies come out on the full moon." Sam spun at the voice. She stood just behind him. Her lips curled into a smile, but it definitely wasn't a pleasant smile. "Took you long enough."

"You weren't exactly easy to find."

"Well now that you have found me, what are you going to do? It's not like I'm going to give up your brother. He's far too tasty. Plus with him out of the way, I can have you without a fight."


	8. Demon Laugh

Sam stood there stunned. His eyes must have belied his confusion, because the demon laughed. "Sam, Sam, Sam." She said as she sauntered over to him. "What? Do you really think that demons give a rat's ass about Dean? We are a little annoyed at how efficient he is when sending us back to Hell, but otherwise he is just one more hunter we have to deal with." She was standing right in front of Sam now. "No, once he is out of our way, we get to keep you."

"Why am I so important?"

"Like I'm going to tell you that."

"But why not just take Dean out?"

"What fun would that be? Watching him grow feeble with age and drowning in his own fluids is much more entertaining than watching him die in the heat of battle, that might actually make someone feel…I don't know…bad for him?"

"Dean doesn't deserve this." The demon walked away from Sam and seemed to survey the surrounding woods. She shrugged.

"Maybe not. But at least I'm having fun." Rage built up within Sam and he lunged at her, she didn't anticipate his sudden burst of strength, and he decked her. He decked her so hard that her host body didn't have much of a choice but to be knocked unconscious. He shook the stinging sensation out of his hand and reached down and took the amulet from around her neck, put it around his, and reached for his exorcism book. The host body didn't have time to wake up before the blackness of the demon was expelled from her body. With a self satisfied breath, Sam shut the book with a comforting thwack. Now, on to saving Dean.

He was just about to turn and leave when he heard a moan escape the girl's lips. He turned to her and looked down. He hadn't wanted to look at her, he had been fairly certain that she had perished when the demon had escaped her body. Her eyes opened and Sam knelt down next to her and assisted her frantic attempts to sit up.

"Are you okay?" he asked in a soft caring tone.

"What happened?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"My head hurts."

"Come on, let me get you home." Sam assisted her into the Impala.

"Who is Dean?" she asked when they were half way to the interstate. Sam turned and gave her a confused expression, his puppy dog eyes worried.

"Sorry?"

"I have this vague notion that some guy named Dean is about to die."

"He's my brother."

"Is he about to die?"

"I don't know."

"Why aren't you with him?"

"I had to find this." He said and showed her the amulet.

"Yeah. That has something to do with it." She pressed a hand to her eyes.

"You just rest." The young lady nodded and rested her head against the seat. The small exchange scared him. He had experienced fear in all of its forms before, but this was definitely a new kind for him. His foot pressed that much harder on the accelerator. In his bones he knew there wasn't much time left.


	9. Mind

Once he dropped off the girl, he called Bobby. Sam's anxiety was at an all new high. He wouldn't make it back to Bobby's for another 12 hours. If Dean needed him right now, he wouldn't be able to make it. His brother would die. He would have failed his brother. For the first time, Sam understood what Dean meant by "it's my job Sammy." He had always detested when Dean said those words, but now it was clear. When someone you love was in danger, you felt as if it were your job to protect them and keep them safe. Dean had never really and truly let it be Sam's job to keep him safe, this was his first test and he was afraid that he was going to fail it, and it wouldn't be like failing a test at school this test would have repercussions for the rest of Sam's life. Repercussions that Sam didn't even want to consider living with.

Bobby wasn't answering his house phone and the anxiety that he already felt was surging more painfully through his body now. Sam got Bobby's voice mail, and instead of leaving a message, Sam turned of his phone and redialed the number, and when he didn't get a hold of Bobby the second time, Sam turned off his phone, pushed harder on the accelerator, and checked to see if he had any messages. He didn't. Bobby would surely call if something happened to Dean. Sam felt tears of fear and rage burn down his cheeks and decided to try Bobby's cell, no answer there either. He threw his phone into the passenger's seat and let out a scream of fear and panic.

The Impala, as if understanding that its owner was in jeopardy, allowed itself to be pushed beyond its limits. Cars made in it's time were not supposed to move nearly as fast as it did. The roar of the engine and the hum of fear steadily beading through his mind almost prevented him from hearing his cell ringing. He reached over, allowing the car to swerve on the empty road, and clicked the phone on as soon as possible.

"Bobby?!" Sam demanded.

"Sam."

"He's alive right? Please tell me he's alive."

"He's alive."

"Then why didn't you answer your damn phone Bobby."

"Because he fell while trying to get to the bathroom."

"You were supposed to watch him Bobby."

"You know how stubborn your brother. I was watching him, I watched him get up by himself and then start his way to the bathroom, and just before I could get to him, he fell."

"Is he okay?"

"Aside from the purple bruise that is now covering his right side, he's fine."

"Bruise? He fell that hard?"

"Sam, when people get older their skin gets thinner and they bruise much easier."

"Oh." Sam said tightly.

"Did you get the demon?"

"Got her and got the amulet."

"Good."

"You sound tense Bobby."

"How fast can you get here?" 

"Another 10 hours if I speed"

"Speed boy." A tingling sensation prickled every pore in his body.

"Bobby…"

"Hurry Sam. His mind is starting to go."


	10. Demons  Beware

**Author's Note: I hope you enjoy this chapter. There is definitely more of it than anticipated!**

Sam spent the next 9 hours driving as fast as he possibly could. The thought of Dean loosing his life was bad enough, but the thought of his big brother's mind going first was something that he had never even contemplated before. As he was driving a conversation with Jessica, a life time ago, came to mind.

"Where are you going baby?" he had asked from the door way.

"My parents are putting my grandmother in a nursing home this weekend and I want to be there to help her settle in."

"What happened?"

"She has Alzheimer's."

"Oh."

"She is getting so bad that she is starting to get mean, and I want to see her one last time while she is still semi together." He remembered her voice being soft, and she sighed heavily as she stuffed a shirt into her bag. Jessica was usually very methodical and put everything in its place. Today, however, she was throwing clothes in her bag and paying no attention to the state the clothes were in when they reached the bag. He remembered putting a hand on her shoulder, trying in vain to comfort the love of his life, and she sagged against his firm frame.

"Do you have any grandparents?" 

"No." he said simply. "They all died before I was born."

"I've always been close to my grandma. She is someone that I go to when I'm sad and she is the one who can comfort me and take all of the pain and make things make sense. I called her first when Marcus Might dumped me. She was just so easy to talk to. Then this year…." she trailed off and looked into the distance as if a projector was playing the events of her life on the wall. "She has been loosing that strength that I have admired for some time now. Little things went first, you know, can't remember where she put things and then it escalated to not being able to remember who lived where and now sometimes she doesn't even remember who she is. It is a horrible disease. And it runs in my family. God I hope I don't end up like that."

"Even if it did, I would be right beside you, reminding you who you are. And we have a love that can't be forgotten."

"Everything can be lost to old age. It is just hard loosing someone like her." Jessica nuzzled deeper into Sam's chest. He leaned down and kissed her head.

"Do you have anyone like that?"

"What do you mean?"

"Someone who is just so strong and wonderful? Someone who knows you better than you know yourself and who is the backbone of your life?" He wrapped his arms around her and put his face into her hair.

"Yeah."

"Who?"

"Not important."

"They dead?"

"Dead to me." He had been so angry with Dean for not siding with him when he wanted to go away to college that he had viewed him as dead. He had locked his big brother out of his life and now as he sat in the Impala, pushing it's antique engine way past it's natural limit, trying to race back to that brother, that brother that he had called dead not four years ago, he wished that he hadn't been so petty and had called Dean as often as possible, checked on him, shared his life with him. But, no, he had lost those years and now he would give just about anything to have those years back.

"Well at least you didn't have to watch them loose themselves and their strength. Death is easier than watching someone you love deteriorate before your very eyes." Jessica had no way of knowing that is exactly what was going to happen and now he wished that he had paid more attention to how his sweet angelic Jessica had handled the situation, because he was fairly sure when he got to Bobby's and saw just how bad Dean was, he was going to fall apart.

Sam made it to Bobby's house in less than the 10 predicted hours. He raced into the house and Bobby grabbed him.

"Slow down son." Bobby's calm demeanor made Sam panic just a little more.

"I'm not too late am I?"

"No. But, I don't want you to kill yourself getting to the couch." Sam nodded and took a deep breath. "I want you to be very aware that he looked a whole lot worse than when you last saw him. That bruise is pretty bad, and his eyes are completely clouded over. He can't see very well at all. His mind is definitely different. He doesn't have a complete memory of a lot of things and you have to remind him several times of things. He still thinks your daddy is alive." Sam nodded. "Now where is that amulet?" Sam fished through his pocket and produced the offending accessory and handed it to Bobby.

"What do we do now?"

"We wait for midnight. That is what we do."

"But that is over 12 hours away. He may not live that long."

"The ritual says midnight. I can't make anything hurry along Sam, I'm not magic." Bobby noted that Sam's muscles fairly thrummed with pent up energy. "Why don't you go outside and run a little."

"I'm not a child anymore Bobby."

"No, but you need to get rid of that nervous energy. The best way to do that is through physical activity."

"I'm going to sit with Dean."

"Sam.."

"I've wasted too much time Bobby. I'm going to sit with him." Bobby sighed.

"Suit yourself." As soon as Sam was out of earshot Bobby mumbled "Stubborn ass."

Sam tentatively entered the living room. He saw the bundle of blankets and he sat on the floor beside the couch and touched the pile of blankets. Dean groaned and pulled the shroud away from his face. Sam visibly paled. Sam was suddenly very glad that Dean's eyesight was shot.

"Sammy?" he asked groggily, voice husky.

"Yeah Dean." He said softly.

"Dad told you that you need to be in school and not looking after me."

"What?"

"You have that big test today. Go. You need to be there. It is just a few bumps and bruises. The poltergeist didn't throw me that hard." Sam remembered the event that he was talking about. Dean had just turned 18 and a poltergeist had thrown him so hard against a wall that the wall had buckled. Dean's whole back had been a mass of black and purple bruising. Their father had decided that it wasn't wise to take Dean to the hospital; he said it was all superficial. Sam had never been so sure about that. Dean didn't like to advertise anything that hurt him, but Sam noticed that he winced every now and again and he rubbed at his back a lot. Sam was fairly certain that he had cracked his spine. Dean hadn't moved from the bed for three weeks. Somewhere in the back of Sam's mind he knew that Dean knew he had really hurt himself. But in typical Dean fashion he sucked it up and pretended like he was all right.

"Dean." He sighed

"Sammy, go on to school. I'll be fine."

"No, Dean, I'm going to sit right here and make sure you are all right."

"Sammy, you can't get into college if you miss school."

"I don't need to go to school."

"I want you to go. I can't. But I want you to go. You deserve to be happy." Dean's words trailed off and the older man fell asleep. Sam sighed, ran his hands through his hair and felt drained. His brother didn't know where or when he was. God he hoped he didn't have to watch him fall apart and become a child in a man's body. Sam averted his eyes from the white hair, wrinkled bruised skin, and looked at his hands in his lap, the rage boiled in his throat. Demons beware, Sam Winchester was pissed.


	11. Accidents

**Author's Note: There is only about another 2 chapters for this story. I hope you enjoy this particular chapter!**

Sam didn't move from his spot next to Dean for most of the afternoon. Instead of getting up or even laying down next to the couch to sleep, Sam partook in his rest by sitting on the floor with his head resting on the couch. Bobby had gone in and out several times and tried to get Sam to move because he would be sore later. Sam had insisted that his little discomfort didn't mean anything in comparison to his brother's and he had always prided himself on being able to at least take the same knocks that Dean did.

One thing that Sam had never anticipated about getting older was the amount of shrinkage. Dean had always been such a larger than life person. Granted Sam had been taller for most of their adult life, but Dean always carried himself as a bigger man would. And now, Dean seemed to take up such a small amount of space. Every time Sam woke up, Dean was a little smaller, a little more drawn in, and a little less coherent. Several times Sam had awoke to Dean calling for their father.

However, calling for their father or asking Sam why he wasn't at school didn't bother him nearly as much as when he and Bobby had to clean Dean up after an accident. The scene had been horrible. Dean had groaned and Sam sprung awake and Dean said he had to go to the bathroom. Sam attempted to get him up on his own and wasn't able to get Dean's uncoordinated body up and into a walking position. By the time Bobby came in and helped, Dean had wet himself. Sam stood there dumbfounded. Tears threatened his eyes, but the resolute look in Bobby's when he said "Dean, buddy, let's get you cleaned up, had made Sam take this new indignity stoically.

After getting Dean cleaned up and in new pajamas, they were able to get him back on the couch and Dean, worn out from all of the activity, fell asleep almost immediately as his white hair hit the pillow. Sam was suddenly grateful that the Dean he knew and loved wasn't exactly inside this decrepit body. Dean would have been so humiliated. However, the advanced aging had taken Dean away and left Sam with a man who was crumpling under his own weight and wasn't able to control his bodily functions, and wasn't embarrassed by it. Dean hadn't put up any kind of fight when they had taken his soiled pjs and cleaned up his lower body. The lack of fight was almost more than Sam could take. Now, with Dean sleeping as comfortably as he could, Sam allowed the tears that had burned the back of his eyes for over an hour, free flow down his long face. Sam was suddenly sure that midnight would never come.

The wetting himself or having to spoon feed Dean got to Sam like no other demon trick ever had. He hadn't been this upset even after he killed the hunter with Meg possessing his body. This demon had his proverbial red button. It was a whole hell of a lot worse watching Dean fall apart and become an invalid who couldn't remember basic things about his own life, than just simply killing Dean. She was forcing Dean to die without dignity, and she was forcing Sam to watch. Watch as his big brother, the invincible Dean Winchester, be reduced to a pile of nothing; a pile of bones that couldn't even get themselves to the bathroom on time. Sam ran a hand over his face, and for the five millionth time, he checked Dean's breathing. It was shallow and he was beginning to wheeze as if there was fluid in his lungs.

"Oh God." He mumbled. "Please don't let him go like this. Please." Dean let out a ragged cough and it continued to the point where Sam had to help him sit up. Dean was fully awake after that coughing fit. Bobby was there and extended a glass of water. Dean took it with shaking hands and Sam helped guide the glass to his brother's wrinkled pale lips. When Dean had enough, he looked in Sam's direction,

"Sammy? You there?" _Oh my God! He can't see anymore!_ Sam screamed in his head.

"I'm right here Dean."

"Where's dad?"

"He's on a hunt Dean." Sam had learned that it was much easier to give this lie than to watch his brother be distressed when he was forced to remember their father's passing.

"You better get to bed then Sammy, it's dark."

"Okay. I'll go to bed Dean."

"Don't forget to make sure the salt lines are intact."

"Okay."

"Go to bed Sammy." Bobby helped Dean lie back down. "Go to bed Sammy." Dean whispered before falling back to sleep. Sam stood up quickly, ran to the bathroom and promptly threw up the little water that Bobby had forced down his throat. Bobby was at his side in mere moments.

"Sit with Dean. I don't need help."

"Sam.."

"No! Go! Sit with him. This is about him not about me."

"Sam…" Bobby sat beside him and rubbed a hand up and down his back.

"The demon knew what she was doing." Tears came in a free flow down his high cheekbones and trailed down his long jaw. "I can't—" his voice cut out. "I can't watch him die like this."

"We aren't going to let him die. We have the amulet. I started boiling the herbs for the ritual. We only have to wait another hour."

"But in that hour…what if Dean…" he could barely form the words, "wets himself again." Sam closed his eyes and tears flowed from his closed eyes. "I feel so humiliated for him. And Bobby if he remembers…"

"We aren't going to mention it to him."

"I keep praying to God for help and guidance. I've been praying my whole life and it never seems to work. Dean deserves God's help. Why won't he help? Why? Why does everyone and everything in life conspire against him to hurt him? Hell I've hurt him, Dad has hurt him…when will it stop?" A loud thud was heard from the other room followed by a weak voice calling "Sam."

Sam couldn't maneuver his long legs around Bobby and the furniture in the bathroom so he crawled as fast as he could on all fours out of the bathroom, then gathered his legs, and hurried to his brother's side as fast as possible. Dean must have tried to roll over in his sleep and fallen off of the couch.

"I'm here Dean." Sam said as he skidded to Dean's side. Dean was crying and he looked like a little kid all scrunched up.

"Huts." Dean mumbled. Sam gathered his brother into his arms and rocked him. Bobby made it into the living room and watched as Sam tried to gather the blankets from the couch and try to wrap them around Dean one handed. Bobby moved swiftly and helped the younger man get the blankets around Dean. Sam looked up and the pain that was there overwhelmed the older hunter and for a moment he wondered what was worse; Dean falling apart or Sam having to watch it. The boys were so interconnected that it was impossible to separate the pain, the emotions, the physical body. Bobby suddenly realized that if they weren't able to save Dean that Bobby would have to help Sam find a clean way of killing himself.


	12. Demon's Victory

**Author's Note: Okay, so I lied the last time. I thought all it would take would be two more chapters; it will take two after this one. ) I hope you like it!**

Sam held Dean for the last few hours before the ritual. He listened to his brother breathe and felt for his heart beat every couple of moments. Sam's body had long since stopped protesting the awkward position he was sitting in and had gone numb. He figured that his discomfort was the last thing he could offer his brother. So many moments in his life he had done something for his pleasure or his happiness at the expense of his brother's. A little bit of cramping in his lower extremities was nothing in comparison. To think that a mere day ago he was mad at Dean with getting himself into this position. Dean had nothing to do with getting into this mess; the demon had arranged it and made sure that the execution, both literal and figurative, came to fruition.

"Sam?" Bobby said tentatively. The last time that he had interrupted Sam from his rocking of his frail brother he had received a snappy reply and a look that could have melted steel. Bobby had decided that he never wanted to be on the wrong side of Sam Winchester. He was afraid that things would end with a gun pressed to his chest. However, this time Sam looked up at Bobby with tearful hazel eyes.

"I'm loosing him. His pulse is slowing and his breathing…." He had to pause before he could continue. He swallowed, tried to swallow past the lump in his throat but was unsuccessful. "His breathing is getting ragged and he sounds like he is trying to breathe through water."

"Sam." Sam shook his head trying to stop Bobby from providing any kind of reassurance. He didn't want it. All he wanted was Dean back.

"Is it time?" He finally asked.

"It is." Bobby answered hoping that those two words would comfort the distraught young man. Sam seemed to ease a little.

"Where do you want him?"

"Lay him in the middle of the room." Sam nodded and did his best to disentangle his legs from underneath him. After much pain and creaking, Sam managed to get Dean arranged, with pillows and blankets, on the floor in front of the fireplace. Dean's once long slender fingers looked like the mummified fingers of some of the corpses they had dug up to salt and burn. The silver ring on his right hand was so loose that Sam had taken it off of him some time ago. It was sitting in his pocket waiting for his brother to come back to him. Dean made a small protest when Sam's support was taken out from underneath his back. Dean's eyes opened and he searched the room for something to lock his eyes on, however, he had gone blind a long time ago. His bony hands reached out.

"Sammy?"

"I'm right here Dean." He said and took that bony hand in his.

"It'll be alright Sammy. Remember that."

"It will. We'll get you back to full strength in no time Dean. Just hang on." Dean's eyes rolled back into his head and his eyes fluttered shut. Sam's heart pounded in his ears as he frantically looked for a pulse and when he couldn't find one he rested his head on Dean's chest and listened. He heard his heart beating and Sam let out a breath that he hadn't realized he had been holding.

"We have to hurry Bobby."

"It's almost the right moment." Bobby said more calmly than he felt. Bobby had already put the kettle of boiling herbs in front of the fire, close to Dean's head. He handed Sam a book and indicated the sticky note that was marking the page.

"Okay, you need to read the Latin and while you are doing that I will dip the amulet into the herbs three times, give Dean a drink of it, and then I will shatter it right as you finish the reading. So, Sam, no matter what you think is happening, I need you to read at a normal pace. Do not speed up." Sam nodded and licked his suddenly dry lips. The two sat for a moment and tried to collect their thoughts. Finally the grandfather clock in the corner began chiming midnight, and Bobby nodded for Sam to begin reading.

Sam began reading the Latin words he had read all of his life and they flowed freely from his mouth. He heard Bobby dip the amulet into the kettle three times and then he heard as Bobby sat Dean up, and managed to get his dying brother to drink the concoction. He heard Dean sputter a little and heard Bobby's reassurances that he would be all right. Sam had to concentrate on keeping his speed slow and steady when he heard his brother's coughs. He took a breath and read the last sentence in the book and then Bobby took a hammer and slammed it down into the crystal just as Sam read the last word. He put the book down and looked at his brother expecting him to look like Dean. Young and virile and strong. But instead he looked exactly as he had when he had started reading.

"Bobby." He said on a frantic note.

"Just wait." They waited for what felt like eternity and then the breath just seemed to seep out of his brother and he went limp. Sam's eyes went wide and Bobby noted the wild look in them.

"Dean!" He shouted and leaned over and felt for breath and listened for pulse. Nothing. He shook his brother's frail frame. "No! No! No! Dean!!!!" he yelled again. He gathered his brother up in his arms and shook him. "Dean you can't be dead. No. No. I prayed. I asked God. He should have given me just this. Please God! I don't' ask for anything else. Please." The last 'please' sounded like a five year old child begging for his parents not to leave him for the evening. Bobby felt stung. They had done the ritual perfectly. Dean should be alive, not dead being shook by his sobbing baby brother. Bobby sat back on his butt and watched. Sam cuddling his dead brother, begging God to help him, and his very soul pouring out into his brother's snow white hair. The demon had done exactly what they intended---destroyed two Winchesters with one spell.


	13. Dealing

**Author's Note: Y'all didn't like Dean dying I see. Well, he isn't resurrected in this chapter but pay close attention to the end. See if you can catch something Sammy missed! Thank you for all of the reviews! I look forward to reading more!**

Sam's mind raced. They had to have done something wrong. They had followed the directions to a T. He had exorcised the demon. He sent that thing back to Hell, there was no way in the world that it could have had any influence over the outcome of this. No way in the world should that demon have been able to take Dean without being alive. The ritual was in essence just clean up. It, not only, should have kept Dean alive but it should have regressed him back to his original physical state.

Sam looked down into his brother's lifeless eyes. Of course Dean had died with his eyes open, trying to see whatever was coming at him, always watchful, always ready for a fight. Sam's whole body trembled as he laid his brother back down onto the pillow. He brushed a hand over the hazy green eyes and shut the eyes, the soul, forever.

He had failed Dean. The thought slammed him so hard that he fell back onto his butt. Sam's face paled and for a second Bobby thought that he was going to throw up.

"Sam?"

"I failed him Bobby."

"Sam you did…"

"He has saved my life more times than I am able to count, yet the one time he needs me I can't do jack for him." Sam's voice trembled and he bit his lower lip and tried to keep from openly weeping. "I failed him," he said quietly as his whole body trembled with his emotions. He was the last Winchester standing. Dad, Mom, Dean—all dead. No hope for resurrection.

Their father had given his life for Dean's and Sam knew that there was no way in the world he could do the same and Dean allows him to live with it. Dean would be furious. He often said that what was dead should stay dead. Normally, Sam would agree with that statement, but faced with the prospect of living the rest of his life with no family left, left him sorely tempted to find himself a crossroads and figure out what he could trade for Dean's life. He could hear Dean in the back of his mind telling him that his life wasn't worth any price that a crossroads demon would ask him to pay.

"Sam…" Bobby tried.

"Leave me alone."

"Sam."

"I said leave me alone Bobby. I don't think I can be trusted right now." Bobby nodded solemnly. He stood.

"Where would you like Dean to rest?"

"Here for a while." Bobby nodded and left the two Winchesters to say their good byes. Sam watched Bobby leave the living room and the wood in the fireplace snapped and Sam jumped which jarred an alligator tear to spill from his eye.

Memories came unbidden to the front of his mind. Happy memories. Memories that he didn't realize he had. Dean had accused him once of only remembering the worst of their childhood. Tonight, however, he remembered the good things. He remembered Dean teaching him how to ride a beat up old bike that Dean had found in someone's dumpster and fixed up for Sam's birthday. Dean had held onto Sam and promised he wouldn't let go until Sam was ready and held to his promise. When Sam had yelled Dean had held true to his word and let go of the bicycle; Dean had let go, but he hadn't let go. Sam knew that his big brother was watching for him. Knew that he was running just a little behind his bike waiting for him to fall, so he could help him back up and fix the hurt that Sam had received—both physical and emotional.

Dean had always said that it was his job to protect Sam, it was his job to watch out for him and keep him safe. Sam hadn't realized just how much he had relied on that. Sam didn't just feel alone, he felt vulnerable. He felt like anything and everything in the world could come after him now and it was a terrifying feeling. He had had Dean at his back his whole life, and now, here he was, alone and terrified. What was he going to do?

The tears came afresh and flowed down his cheeks unchecked and he did something that he hadn't done since he was little; he laid down next to his big brother, cuddled up against his brother's warm fleshy side, and sobbed himself to sleep.


	14. The End

**Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who read this story. I hope that you enjoyed it. I enjoyed writing it. Enjoy the end!!!!! Stacey.**

He felt himself on the edge of consciousness, like he was trying to wake up from a dream but sleep still held fast. He finally gave himself that final push and forced himself awake. He looked around, disoriented for a second. Then he saw the devil's trap above his head and the memories of the past week flooded back to him. Some of which he hoped to hell that he could forget.

His attempt at sitting up was thwarted by a huge weight on his side. Now that he realized that it was there, it hurt, and it was heavy. Looking down he realized what it was and sighed.

"Sammy," he said, his voice gruff with lack of use. "Sammy, you big idiot, get up. You are hurting me." He pushed a little at his brother and he roused, looked up at his brother through swollen eyes. Tear tracks traced down his face. Dean couldn't for the life of him figure out why Sam had been crying. Sure wetting himself had been a horrible thing that for once, he hoped his encyclopedic brother would forget, but that was no where near a good reason for crying.

"Dean?" he asked flabbergasted.

"Sammy. Please get up. You are crushing my spleen."

"Your spleen isn't in that spot." Sam said in a sort of automatic daze. Dean. Was. Back. Not just in the, he's alive and talking way, but he was back to his normal, dark hared, smooth skinned, toned and fleshy sort of way. Everything was normal. His eyes were bright again and showed no signs of decay, his skin was taught and tan, and didn't look as if someone had tried to put a too big Dean suit on a small frame, his hair was dark blond again and no signs of white invaded the tresses.

Sam was just about to reach out his hand and touch his brother's face when Dean replied;

"Whatever. Get up. You have to be crushing something important wit that Sasquach body of yours." Sam sat up and watched as Dean struggled to get out of his uncomfortable death rest.

"It worked." Sam finally said.

"Well duh Sammy. Why do you look like you didn't think it did?"

"Because you died last night after the ritual." Dean seemed to think on that for a moment and then shrugged.

"Whatever dude."

"Seriously."

"Well, I'm fine now."

"Do you remember where we are?"

"Bobby's. Who else has books around like this?" Sam smirked.

"What else do you remember?" Sam probed. Dean knew what his brother was fishing for, but he was not about to admit that he remembered Bobby and Sam cleaning him up after accidents, or his brother spoon feeding him because he didn't have proper control over his motor skills anymore, nor was he likely to mention that he remembered what it was like to be blind.

"Not much. I remember you telling me you were leaving to find the demon, but that is just about all." Sam felt relief flood his senses. He never wanted Dean to wake up from this and suffer the humiliation of having become an incontinent invalid.'

"Sam…you out here talking…" Bobby Singer, dressed, looking as if he hadn't eaten anything in days but had had his fair share of the hard stuff looked at Dean who was sitting up and grinning at him.

"Dean?"

"I'm here Bobby."

"I thought…"

"Yeah, Sammy here thought I was dead too. I don't understand why you guys thought that."

"You stopped breathing." Sam said simply.

Dean raised a dark brown and nodded. "I can see where you would get the impression then." Bobby, without preamble, went to the eldest Winchester and hugged him. Bobby was never so happy to see someone up and running again as Dean Winchester. There was something special about the boy that he couldn't quite put his finger on. He held the boy's firm body in his and relished in the fact that he didn't see bone sticking out of wrinkled skin. Dean was whole again and that was all that mattered right now.

Sam watched the two and found himself once again marveled by how easily Dean accepted affection from Bobby. Dean never accepted affection from anyone other than his one night stands. Bobby let Dean go with a pat on the shoulder and an awkward silence ensued as Bobby and Sam starred at Dean. Dean tried not to twitch and the sudden urge to get the hell away over took him.

"Well," Dean said breaking the silence. "I need to go to the bathroom, get a shower and get dressed." Dean stood and hurried to the back of the house and took care of the necessities. Sam didn't speak the entire time he was back there. Dean had died right in front of him and now…now…his brother seemed to be back to normal.

Dean collected himself while he showered, shaved and did his hair. His hands had shook when he had turned on the shower. He felt shaky and slightly stiff. The last time he had been resurrected. Dean stopped when that thought came to mind. He sighed and pushed his head under the hot water.

"Man, Winchester, you are getting to be like a cat, 9 lives. One of these days you aren't going to be so lucky." He chastised himself. But the last time he had come back to this world he had felt empty and like something was wrong. This time, aside from just general achyness, that he assumed had more to do with the fact that his body had rapidly aged and then rapidly de-aged than the actual resurrection itself, Dean didn't experience the wrongness that he had felt the last two times he had been brought back from the dead, or near dead.

He actually decided as he finished shaving, that this time, he had been brought back because he was mean to be here. He was meant to be with Sammy and keep killing those evil "sons of bitches". This, at least, was a get out of jail free card that did not have the price tag of unending guilt. This time, he just had to suffer the humiliating memories until the end of his days. When he got old, if he got old, for real, he'd kill himself before he let Sam clean him up or help him walk to the bathroom, or help him to eat. No-sir-re. That was never going to happen to Dean Winchester again.

Walking out of the bathroom, black shirt overlaid with green shirt and torn jeans, he felt good. He looked good and felt good. Sam looked up when he heard Dean's footfalls and tears almost came to his eyes. Dean looked like Dean again, from the clothes to the hair that was spiked to the right, he was Dean again.

"Dude. Where is my ring?" he asked. Sam jerked to attention and pulled it out of his pocket.

"Here. It was too big…"

"Thanks Sammy." He interrupted. "Why don't we get out of Bobby's hair? I'm sure there is something evil we can hunt out there."

"Dean..are you?"

"I feel great Sammy. Come on. Let's get out of here." They said their goodbyes to a flustered Bobby. He wasn't quite ready to see the boys leave. Dean smiled and patted Bobby's chest as he said. 'Thanks for everything." With a grumble of the Impala's engine the boys were out of there.

It had taken Sam several hours to work up the courage to actually say what he needed to his brother.

"Hey Dean."

"Let's not Sammy." Dean said anticipating the heart to heart that Sam wanted to have.

"I have to say this."

"Do I have to talk back?"

"No. You just have to listen." Dean sighed as if he were being majorly put upon.

"Fine. Get it off your chest."

Sam licked his lips trying to find the words that he had had all night. Words that he had said that if Dean had been alive he would never forget to tell him. He could remember none of it. So instead, Sam took a deep breath and said, "I love you." That seemed to say it all.

Finished


End file.
